


First Death

by onceuponanovel



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst and Feels, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Drabble, Flahsbacks, Marvel Roleplay, POV Bucky Barnes, PTSD, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Pre-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Recovering!Bucky, Steve mentioned, bucky barnes rp, bucky drabble, life in romania, marvel rp
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-04
Updated: 2017-10-04
Packaged: 2019-01-09 01:45:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12266364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onceuponanovel/pseuds/onceuponanovel
Summary: Bucky receives a flashback taking him to when his journey to the Winter Soldier began.





	First Death

[ Takes place in Romania pre-Civil War timeline ]

 

As the ball point pen rapidly scribbles across the page a sudden burst of cold hits him with full force. An image of a man on the bridge who visits him often in his mind has climbed out from the hole in the freightcar. The other man - Steve, his name was Steve - clings to the side, visibly frightened yet still offering a trembling hand.

A frantic feeling waves over as he feels the impact of it all, hands shaking causing the pen to go off course and his scribbles become illegible. Dropping the pen temporarily, it hits the open page before him falling to his lap. With his right hand, he shakily wipes it over his face cupping his chin, hoping to symbolically remove the terrifying sensation overwhelming him.

Sitting on the thin mattress, he winces outwardly and even though he’s alone, the fear he feels is accompanied with embarrassment. He closes his eyes and begs for this vision to return. Focusing intently on the rush of fear. It is acquainted with this particular memory…? Was it a memory? If it was, he will desperately try to keep hold of it.

_Focus. You had it. You remembered. Please come back to me. Please remember._

The harder he focuses on the fear cutting through him, a piercing, desperate plea going unanswered while arms outstretched grasping at anything that may be a lifeline, anything that may be it’s last hope to escape the inevitable. Falling, he feels the rush of helplessly plummeting through the bitter air till the impact makes him jerk as a result.

Fear is replaced with an agonizing pain. His hand leaves his chin to cup his left shoulder as a reflex. All he hears, something akin to his own voice is a weak plea for help only for it to go unanswered.

Lowering his hand from his shoulder, he carefully picks up the pen and as best as he can and with as great of detail, writes everything no matter how painful on the pages. That had to be it. That had to be how it all began. His road to perdition. Death would have been kinder. 

**Author's Note:**

> Written as a drabble for a roleplay group I recently joined. Why not post it here too? XD Enjoy the angst.


End file.
